Margot POV
The Vanderbilt estate had age, but it wore it differently than the Hargraves’.
Where the Hargrave place felt like a family that had already started packing up the magnificent silver, this one still expected you to notice every carved column and every cut of crystal.
Three generations of quiet power lived within the walls.
I took it in as we walked up, the way light fractured through the chandelier, the polished stone that didn’t creak under expensive shoes. Everything said, we’ve been here longer than your problems.
Rhett stepped out of the car and came around to my side. His voice dropped low, right against my ear.
“Don’t be nervous.”
It sounded calm. It didn’t feel like comfort.
It felt like an order wrapped in soft paper.
His voice still had that young-man clarity
